


Jack Has DID - A Jacksepticeye Short Story

by Skylar1336



Series: Jack Has DID Universe [1]
Category: youtube - Fandom
Genre: Chapters will contain warnings, Chase is amazing, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Gen, I love this story, Jack has DID, Later mentions of self-harm, M/M, Mentions of JJ/Dr. Schneep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-19 09:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22609075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylar1336/pseuds/Skylar1336
Summary: Jacksepticeye has DID - Dissociative Identity Disorder. Previously known as Multiple Personality Disorder, this is a trauma disorder that causes the brain to "split" before fulling integrating as a child. Jack must learn to navigate this, but something dark may be lurking in the depths of his mind... PS No knowledge of the disorder needed; I do my best to explain within the story. Also, Teen Rating is because of cursing (not excessive). Use your own discretion. Enjoy!
Relationships: Jameson Jackson/Dr. Schneeplestein
Series: Jack Has DID Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1646029
Comments: 30
Kudos: 80





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not a licensed psychologist, nor do I have DID. I do know a fair bit about the disorder but in no way claim to be an expert. Please know this is not a guide for DID, or an assured accurate representation. While I do my best to present it in a mostly accurate light, this story is for entertainment purposes only. If there are any major discrepancies, please alert me in the comments. Enjoy!

Jack sat down in front of his computer screens, grabbing his headphones and placing them over his ears. He tried to ignore the pounding in his ears. He’d had a splitting headache for days, damn near a migraine, but he knew he needed to record a video.  
With a sigh, he rubbed his face and pulled the microphone towards him.  
He had these headaches frequently; long, dizzying ones that left him exhausted and, occasionally, deprived of memory of the last few hours.  
The familiarity, however, did not make them any easier to deal with. They still hurt like hell, and no medication had ever worked. Doctor after doctor had tried different medicines, diagnoses, advice. Nothing helped.  
His migraines, coupled with his memory loss, had prompted his latest visit to end with a recommendation to a psychiatrist. Jack had tossed the card in a drawer. He was fine. He could function just fine; nothing was that serious.  
Blinking his eyes a few times to bring himself back to focus, Jack opened up Happy Wheels. He loved this game, chalked it up to one of his favorites. It had a simple yet gory element to it that he enjoyed immensely.  
As the game’s opening theme sounded, Jack felt his eyelids grow heavy. A moment later, they closed.

When Jack opened his eyes again, his headache was gone. He felt dizzy, but after a few moments that too cleared.  
In front of him on his screen was the menu of Five Nights at Freddy’s. He looked around a few times in confusion, then up at his camera. The red light was blinking. He didn’t remember pressing record.  
Clearing his throat, he clicked play. The title screen appeared: ‘Night 5.’ He’d never gotten past night four…  
Looking up at the camera, he said, “Well, welcome to Five Nights at Freddy’s, I guess-” He was still incredibly disoriented. He was trying to be his normal self, but he just felt lost. He couldn’t focus. He finished night five, amazingly, but he doubted it looked okay. He wasn’t even sure he could use the footage.  
What had happened to him?  
He swallowed hard and got up, grabbing his keys and rummaging through his junk drawer. He pulled out the psychiatrist card with a sigh. Maybe he did need help.  
For a moment, he wondered if it was better to call someone, ask them to drive. But he was too spooked. And what would he say?  
He shook his head and headed out to his car, putting the key in the ignition and cranking it.  
He didn’t remember pulling out of the driveway, or driving down the road, or even getting on the highway. But next think he knew he was in the right lane, red lights shining up ahead. His eyes grew wide and he slammed his foot on the brakes. When the car finally stopped, it was nearly touching the one in front of him.  
His heart was pounding. He’d never had a memory gap like that. With shaking hands he turned the wheel and was able to work his way over to his exit ramp.  
He was on high alert; he didn’t relax until his car was in park in front of the doctor’s office. He took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves.  
After several minutes, he turned off the ignition and got out of the car, heading into the office and locking it behind him.  
When he got inside, he went to the front desk to sign in.  
“May I help you?” A young woman stared up at him from behind the desk, eyebrows raised.  
“Maybe-” he said unsurely. He handed her the card. “The doctor I visited recommended this place.”  
“Do you have an appointment?”  
Jack hesitated, looking down. “N-No.. I- This is an emergency, I think.”  
“Sir, if you have an emergency, perhaps you should consider the hospital? Or a clinic?”  
He shook his head, licking his lips. His headache was back. “Please.” he replied. “I need to figure out what’s going on. This is getting worse.”  
His eyes felt heavy. They closed.

Jack groaned, clutching his head. He was vaguely aware of a voice speaking nearby. “So, Chase, is this your first time out?” He rubbed his eyes and opened them, his sight slowly stabilizing.  
A man in a suit coat was sitting in front of him, clipboard and pen in hand. “What?” he asked hazily.  
“I asked you if this was your first time out, Chase.” the man said.  
“Who the fuck is Chase?” Jack demanded, Irish accent thick and slurred. He must’ve really been out of it.  
The mad did not answer, but made a on his paper and instead asked, “What’s your name?”  
Jack scoffed slightly. “Shouldn’t you have it already? We’ve obviously been talking.” he said.  
The former smiled. “Humor me.” he said.  
Jack hesitated. “My name is Jack. Who is Chase?” He felt exhausted. Why was he so tired?  
“How old are you, Jack?”  
“Twenty-six.” he replied, sitting up straighter. “Who is Chase?” The man watched him carefully for a moment. “Damnit, tell me who he is!” Jack slammed his hands on the table, eyes dark. He felt a surge of hatred bubbling up inside him. After seconds, it passed.  
He swallowed hard and slowly lowered himself back into his chair. “I-I’m sorry.” he said quietly. “That wasn’t like me, I… I don’t feel like myself.”  
To his surprise, the man smiled. “Don’t worry, Jack. Your outburst is quite understandable. You must be very confused as to what’s going on.”  
Jack was silent for a moment. “I’ve had blackouts for as long as I can remember.” he said. “My whole life. You know what causes them?”  
The man gave a small nod.  
“Tell me. Please.”  
The psychiatrist folded his hands over his clipboard. “Have you ever heard of DID?” he asked. “It’s more commonly referred to as Multiple Personality Disorder, though that is an outdated term.”  
Jack gave a slight, nervous grin. “I mean, in stories. Movies, games, shows.” He swallowed. “You’re not saying that’s real?”  
“Very much so. Quite rare, but there’s indisputable proof.” The man sighed. “And I think you have it.”  
Jack felt suddenly cold. “Me? How- I just have some memory loss, that’s all…”  
“One of the major signs of this disorder.”  
“But that’s not the only cause.” Jack protested. “I mean… it isn’t, is it?”  
“No. But it is a big one. And I have other reasons for this diagnosis.” the doctor replied.  
“Like?” Jack asked, not completely sure he wanted to know.  
“Well, for one thing, you’ve been sitting here with me for nearly an hour, and this is the first time I’ve heard your voice.”  
The Irishman wet his lips. “I don’t understand.”  
The psychiatrist’s voice was exceedingly gentle. “I was speaking to someone else. His name is Chase.”  
Jack swallowed the lump in his throat. “I don’t understand.” he repeated. “What exactly is DID?”  
“It’s a mental disorder.” the doctor said. “A crude term, perhaps. It is when… a child experiences such traumatic events that they cannot live a normal life with the memories of said events.”  
“But I do live a normal life.” Jack interjected. “I’m fine.”  
The man held up his hand to silence him. “In order for the child to continue to survive, the brain will, well, split itself. It separates the memories from the child and, in doing so, creates an entirely new personality, or ‘alter.’” He sighed. “These alters, the ones that preserve the child from the memories, are referred to as trauma holders. But other personalities may split off if needed, for a multitude of reasons.  
“These alters can be radically different. They have different levels of intelligence, different backgrounds, different ages, genders, nationalities. They are, essentially… entirely different people.”  
Jack was quiet for a long time. “I have other people inside me?” he asked finally, voice barely audible.  
“In a word… yes.” the doctor replied.  
“Who is Chase?”  
“He’s one of your alters. Your first, in fact. You are the core, the ‘original,’ if you will. Chase followed. He is your primary protector.”  
“So… how come I’ve never known he was there?” Jack asked, mind racing at all the new information he was receiving.  
“Well, that’s sort of the point.” the psychiatrist replied. “To protect the core, the brain creates amnesiac walls and separates the alters from each other. You’ve never known Chase because technically, you were never supposed to.”  
“Then what changed?”  
“I’m afraid I’m not sure. Chase was telling me a bit about things before you returned.”  
Jack slowly ran his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath. “So what happens now? Is something wrong with me?”  
“Nothing serious, Jack.” he reassured. “I am glad you came to see me, however. The next step I would suggest is trying to communicate with Chase and the others. Your memory loss is getting worse because they’re fronting, taking control of the body. The more you talk with them, the easier it will become to control this, and to avoid dangerous memory gaps like the one you suffered here.”  
Jack opened his mouth to reply and paused. “Did you say others?”  
“Yes. Chase told me of two other alters in your system.”  
“Who are they?”  
The doctor frowned and shook his head. “I’m afraid Chase didn’t get the chance to say.”  
The Irishman slumped back in his seat, feeling surprisingly calm and a little disappointed. After a moment he said, “Can I come see you again?”  
“I insist on it. I’d like to have a documentation of your alters. What do you think? Two weeks?”  
Jack nodded. “Okay. Until then?” He met the doctor’s eyes, feeling overwhelmed.  
The older man put his clipboard aside and returned his gaze steadily. “Communication, Jack.”


	2. Chapter 2

A few days later, Jack woke up in bed and rubbed his eyes. He got out from under the covers and out of bed, stifling a yawn as he headed to the kitchen.   
When he got there, he was surprised to find a folded paper on the counter. His name was on it. Frowning, he slowly picked it up and unfolded it. The handwriting was unfamiliar. It read:  
**Jack-  
This must be so weird for you. I can’t say it feels normal myself. Believe me, if I could find a different way to meet you, I would. But this’ll have to do. I heard the doc wants us to communicate. For the most part, I’m an open book. Questions? -Chase Brody**  
Jack set the note on the table and licked his lips, mind racing. So it really was true, then. Despite his apprehension, Jack’s interest was piqued. He wanted to find out as much about Chase and the others as he could.   
Grabbing a pen, he began a reply. When he was done, he folded the paper in half and set it on the table beside Chase’s.   
For a moment, he stood there, watching it as if waiting for a response. Then he gave an embarrassed laugh and rubbed his head. “Till next time, I guess.” he said to himself. 

It was later that evening he noticed the note had been disturbed. He didn’t remember seeing it earlier; he had, however, experienced a memory lapse for most of the afternoon.   
That would explain the takeout bag next to it.  
He walked over and picked up the note, more eager than the first time to see the response.  
**Jack-  
Good to see you weren’t scared off by the note. I was a little worried it would be too forward. A little about myself, huh? The doc said I’m what’s called a “primary protector.” I guess that’s kind of what it sounds like. I’ve been watching over you since you were little. I’ve tried my best to keep a low profile. That was always the point, y’know? So that you could be safe and have a good life. I guess I haven’t been doing such a good job of late… Anyways. I’m 26, just like you. I’m from Vermont. Is it weird to know I’m American? I think it’s interesting you’re Irish. I can’t even do an Irish accent, and we have the same mouth! I like doing trick shots, I like football, and I always wear a flat-brimmed cap. One more thing- the doctor said we could learn to actually speak to each other for real. I’m… not sure how it works. But he said if we practiced you’d be able to hear me in your head. Kinda creepy if I’m being honest… But I’m willing to try. Talk soon! -Chase**  
Jack set the note down. Speak to Chase? For real? A thrill of excitement passed through him. He wanted to try it right then and there. Unfortunately, he hadn’t a single clue how to begin.   
He grabbed a piece of paper to bombard Chase with a new round of questions. At the end he added he was willing to try to communicate as well. Jack was confident they could do it.

Nearly a week after the second note, they’d made no progress. Well, not with speaking directly to Chase, anyway. But he had learned an amazing amount more about the rest of the alters in his system (as Chase called it).   
According to the American man, Jack currently had two other alters. Their names were Jameson Jackson, a Brit, and Henrik von Schneeplestein, a German. Jack thought the latter was quite a name, but Chase had assured him he would answer to the shorter ‘Dr. Schneep.’  
It was a few days before Jack was supposed to return for his next psych appointment. He walked outside and headed down his driveway to grab the mail.  
After pulling out the small stack of envelopes from the mailbox and shuffling through them, he froze. His entire body felt tense and still. He felt an overwhelming sense of anxiety, maybe even fear. The feeling grew and grew, swelling up inside him until he could hardly think.  
 _JACK. MOVE!_  
He instinctively lunged into his yard, hitting the ground hard as the voice echoed horribly in his ears. A moment later there was a deafening crash sounded behind him. Turning, he saw a car had crashed into his mailbox, which now lay flattened and broken on the ground.  
His mouth was dry. No one else was in the vicinity; he was recovering enough to realize he didn’t know where the voice had come from.  
 _Jack._ The voice was still there, clear as if the owner was standing right in front of him. The… American owner.  
“Chase?” he breathed, stumbling to his feet.  
The slamming of the car door brought him back to his senses, and he looked up to see the driver getting out of the car. He rubbed his head, looking at Jack. “Hey man, I’m so sorry, I-”   
Chase had gone silent. Jack’s heart pounded; he couldn’t focus on anything the driver was saying. He just shook his head and blinked furiously, not looking at him. “It’s fine. It’s fine, just leave it.”  
“Are you okay, man?”  
Jack managed a nod before turning and hurrying back inside, still breathing hard. Once there, Jack closed his eyes, trying to relax himself. “Chase?” he tried again, voice questioning but hopeful.  
 _I’m here, Jack._ An unmistakable American male voice spoke in return.   
Jack let out a small, disbelieving laugh. “I can hear you. I can actually hear you, that’s-” He broke off at a sudden realization. “Chase, you saved my life.” he said quietly.  
Chase was silent for several moments. _I saved all of us._ he replied. _It’s sort of my job, right? But I, uh, I can’t take all of the credit. Schneep actually alerted me. I was closest to fronting, I- I could warn you._  
Jack tilted his head. “How did the Doc know?”  
_He’s your physical protector._ Chase replied simply.  
“Well,” Jack said, running his hand through his bright green hair, “tell him I said thanks.”

“So, have you made progress since our last visit?” Jack’s psychiatrist, a man whose name he’d finally learned, sat across from him. His name was Dr. Jeffrey. Jack had been perfectly content to simply refer to him as Doc or Doctor, but after Chase’s explanation of the existence of Dr. Schneep, they’d agreed it was better to learn their shrink’s name.  
“A lot.” Jack replied.  
“Really?” He seemed surprised but smiled. “Do tell.”  
Jack hesitated, then slowly tapped his head, closing his eyes. “I spoke to Chase.” he said. “I heard him, in here.” He frowned suddenly, eyes opening. “I’m not crazy, am I?”  
Jeffrey chuckled and shook his head. “Not at all, Jack. There have been many tests that prove communicating mentally with your alters is possible. Have you spoken with anyone else?”  
“No.” Jack admitted. “But Chase told me about the others.”  
“How many?”  
“Only two. It’s… weird, thinking that they’re all completely different people. I mean, Chase’s accent- I can hardly even do an American accent.”  
Dr. Jeffrey nodded. “But his is perfect. Because he’s American.”  
“Yes.” Jack said softly.  
“Do you know the names of your other alters?” he asked.  
“Jameson Jackson and Henrik von Scheep- von Schneep- von…” Jack took a breath and tried again. “Schneeplestein.” he said finally.  
The psychiatrist made a note on his clipboard and looked up. “Interesting.”   
Jack ran his hand through his hair. “They are pretty crazy names, huh?” He had a slight headache.  
Dr. Jeffrey smiled. “Indeed. I was referring, however, to Chase being present right now.”  
Jack frowned. “How do you know?”  
“You said Henrik’s name in an American accent. Well, at least the last time. It seems Chase aided your pronunciation.”  
“How can he do that and not… front?” Jack asked, still getting adjusted to the terminology.  
“It’s called being ‘co-con.’” the doctor said. “Meaning con-conscious or co-control. Two alters sharing the body, if you will.”  
Jack’s headache was growing. “Fuck- do you have aspirin?” he asked.  
“It’s a switch, Jack. Someone wants to front, most likely Chase.” Dr. Jeffrey prepared his clipboard. “May I speak with him?”  
“I don’t-”  
_Just relax, Jack._ The American’s voice sounded gently in Jack’s head. _You’ll be affected more if you fight it. I don’t really want to front, but I will if you let me. I’ll handle it from here._  
Jack’s eyes were growing heavy. “Okay.” he said aloud. His eyes closed.

When he woke up, he was back in his house. He blinked a few times and got up off his couch, looking around. He didn’t remember making it home, but Chase had fronted… he must’ve driven back.   
He headed to his room and soon found himself hopelessly lost. Why did it feel like there were so many more rooms than usual? He was convinced he’d seen at least three more bathrooms on his walk than he had in his entire house.  
He felt oddly scared. Apprehensive, like there was something eerie nearby. It was the feeling he got when he was about to be jump-scared in a horror game. His body began to shake. He fell back against the wall, slowly sinking down and burying his face in his hands. The feeling was filling every pore in his body, growing bigger and stronger and closer and-  
“Hello? What are you doing on the floor? Tired, _ja_?”  
The feeling vanished. Jack raised his head to see a man standing in front of him, looking down in concern. He swallowed hard. “N-No. Just had a sort of feeling… Nevermind.” he said. “Who are you?”  
“I could ask ze same as you. I have never seen you here before.” He had a thick German accent.  
Jack hesitated. “Dr. Schneep..?” he asked.  
The man looked taken aback. “How did you know my name? Only Chase-” he broke off, nodding, a slight smile on his face. “You are Jack. I did not recognize you at first, forgive me.”  
Jack pushed himself to his feet, looking around. “It’s fine, I just… where are we? It’s like my house, but much bigger.”  
The doctor rubbed his chin, thinking for a moment. “It is were we live when we not fronting, if that makes sense. I believe Chase called it ze ‘inner world.’ It has become my home entirely, as I do not front very often at all.”  
“Why am I here, though?” Jack asked. “I’ve never seen this before, and it’s not the first time Chase or one of you have… fronted.”  
The doctor shrugged, “I am not sure. Is a pleasure to meet you formally, however. It has been too long.”  
Jack nodded his agreement. “Chase said you were my physical protector. What is that, exactly?”  
“I keep you from harm.” the doctor replied, giving a small shrug. “Different kinds of pain, _ja?_ Danger. Physical, mental, emotional. The second two, I am not so good with. But physically safe, zat I can do.”  
Jack regarded him for a long time. “You saved my life the other day.” he said softly.   
“Chase told me of your gratitude. But, is just my job, no? No thanks required. Besides, is not the first time I have helped you.”  
The Irishman smiled. “That just makes me happier I get to say it now. Thank you, for everything.”  
Dr. Schneeplestein did a small, flourishing type of bow and grinned. “Of course, Jack.”


	3. Chapter 3

Jack sat down in front of his computer, setting up a recording. His head had been pounding all day; he felt dissociated. Despite this, he wanted to record the first episode in the latest of FNAF series.  
It had been two months since Jack had been diagnosed with DID. Since his last psychiatrist appointment, he’d worked with Chase and Schneep to map his inner world as best as possible, so that no one, especially Jack, would get lost again.  
Chase remained the alter Jack communicated with the most. He and the American became very close, and Jack wasn’t sure how he’d ever lived without him. He supposed he really hadn’t.  
Throughout all of this, Jack hadn’t once caught a glimpse of his third alter, Jameson Jackson. Chase affectionately referred to him as JJ, but didn’t allow for much conversation about him. Neither did Schneep. They were both oddly protective of the unknown Brit, Schneep even more so. While he wanted to be respectful to them all, especially Jameson, Jack couldn’t help but be curious. He also had to admit that he also felt a little uneasy at the thought of an unknown alter in his body.  
He put on his headphones and began to go through his laundry list of checking and double checking his microphone, camera, computer, and everything in between. When he was finally satisfied that everything was working properly, he pulled up the game.  
He found his hand was absentmindedly stroking his beard and frowned, stopping the motion. His headache worsened, eyes fluttering as his head slowly went back against his chair.

When he woke up, he was in the inner world. He’d gotten rather good at recognizing it. He got up from his couch and rubbed his face with a sigh. Chase must have fronted.  
It was times like these that Jack was most frustrated with the switches that happened every so often. He knew that none of them had any control of it, including Jack himself, but it was getting harder to get through a normal routine. Especially with work.  
“Jack!” Chase’s voice sounded as he came into the living room. “Been a while. It’s so rare that we get to talk like this.”  
Jack looked at him in surprise. “Nice to see you too, Chase, I- I thought you fronted, to be honest.”  
The American straightened his flat brimmed hat and came to sit on the couch, shaking his head. “Nah. I was close, but I’m here now. I figured you’d taken full consciousness again; I was pushed to the back.”  
Jack sat down beside him with a frown. “Well, Dr. Schneep, then.” he concluded.  
“Jack?” The thick German accent startled them both. “How have you been, I have missed you! I-” As Dr. Schneeplestein entered the room, all three alters turned pale. “Chase?” Dr. Schneep said in some surprise. “You are both here? This is impossible, _ja_?”  
Jack’s eyes were fixed on the American, who was sitting there numbly. After a moment he looked up at Dr. Schneep. “He must’ve fronted.”  
“No.” the doc said instantly. He shook his head. “No.”  
Jack looked between them both.  
“He must have.” Chase repeated.  
“No!” The doctor looked quite incensed.  
Chase slowly rose from the couch. “Maybe I should-”  
Dr. Schneep looked up quickly, gaze fierce. “I’ll get him.” His tone left no room for debate, and before the other two could open their mouths he was gone.  
Jack grabbed Chase’s arm, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Talk.” he demanded.  
Chase was silent for several moments. When he finally spoke, he didn’t look at Jack. “JJ fronted.”  
“Jameson?” Jack shook his head. “You said he never fronts.”  
“He doesn’t.” Chase’s voice was taut. “He hasn’t in years. And it’s not safe for him to be.”  
“Chase.” Jack took a deep breath. “Who is he? You never talk about him.”  
The American sighed. “We’re… protective.” he replied.  
“I know that, but he’s a part of me. I need to know about him. Please.”  
Chase took off his hat, sitting back against the couch and running his hand through his hair. “He’s a trauma holder.” he said quietly. “Your trauma. He keeps it safe from you. Everything from when you were little that… that you don’t remember. Because of him.”  
Jack chewed his lip silently. “I thought you were created first.”  
“I was. Well… I guess we were sorta created at the same time. Your trauma caused you to react in two different ways. Me and JJ. we’re two different forms of protection. I’m hands on, JJ works through amnesia. He has… all of your traumatic memories.”  
Jack shifted slightly, a small frown on his face. “Dr. Jeffrey said that a child had to undergo severe trauma to develop DID. Abuse.”  
Chase didn’t reply.  
The Irishman looked up at him, eyes clouded with confusion and sadness. “How does Jameson handle that?”  
“He was made to.” Chase said. “But… that’s why he never fronts. He has all your memories, even the ones I don’t. It keeps us safe, but the person it’s made him…” Chase trailed off, shaking his head.  
“He’s mute.” he admitted, meeting Jack’s eyes for the first time. “There’s no physical reason for it, Schneep’s checked. It’s just psychological. He uses sign language. I know a little, but it’s mostly the doc that talks with him. He and JJ have a special bond. That’s why he’s trying to bring him back right now.”  
“What triggered him to front in the first place?” Jack asked.  
Chase just sighed. “I don’t know. We try our best to keep him safe, but he’s never done something like this. He’s so far back in our subconscious most of the time that he’s almost dormant.”  
“You’re really worried about him, aren’t you?”  
The American nodded, running his hand through his hair once more. “It could’ve been worse. We’re home, right?”  
“Yeah.” Jack replied.  
“Good.”

Jack opened his eyes. He was sitting in front of his computer; had Jameson not moved? When he looked at the screen, he saw the death screen in FNAF. It was never a pleasant thing to be jumpscared.  
He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear his head and fully front. These switches took forever sometimes. “Fucking hell-” he muttered.  
_Jack._  
He jumped. “Chase? You scared me.”  
_What were you doing before JJ fronted?_  
“I was starting up an episode of Five Nights at Freddy’s, why?”  
_One of you must’ve started a level… JJ got scared by the game. He’s not doing well at the moment._  
“Shit. Is he gonna be alright?”  
_Schneep’s checking on him. He should be, but… I dunno. It sucks. He finally fronts and immediately has to pay for it._  
“Send him my best.” Jack murmured. “I’ll avoid these games for now.” A moment later, Chase was gone.  
As he closed out the game, he felt a chill run down his spine. His eye twitched. He shuddered, shaking the feeling off and opening Happy Wheels. He hesitated and, thinking better of it, turned off the computer altogether.

A few nights later, Jack climbed into bed and turned off his lamp with a sigh. He was exhausted; it had been a long day with far too much dissociation. Regardless, he had a feeling he wasn’t going to be falling asleep any time soon.  
The last few days had been hard. While Chase was busy flitting in and out of co-conscious so often that Jack had near constant headaches, Schneep was almost never present. He was at JJ’s side constantly, tending to him. Chase assured Jack that Jameson was improving, but the Irishman couldn’t help feeling guilty. He had sworn off horror games for the foreseeable future, and while many fans were outraged at the sudden change and lack of explanation, Jack knew he was doing the best thing for everyone involved. Especially JJ.  
He thought about all of this for a long time. Eventually, he drifted off.

When he woke up, he was back in the inner world. Someone must’ve fronted in their sleep; it was happening more and more frequently lately.  
He sighed and made his way to his bedroom. It was possible, though improbable, for alters to sleep in the inner world, and he was still tired.  
As he drew closer, he could hear a voice speaking softly in another room. “Let’s see. Ze woman began her trek down ze street, carrying her purse in- No? Not purse? Hmmm… handbag? Very well.” Jack followed Dr. Schneep’s voice as he continued to narrate. “Ze woman began her trek down ze street, carrying her handbag on her arm, regretting every decision she has ever made- only joking, JJ, only joking. _Ja_.”  
Jack appeared in the doorway, a small smile on his face.  
Dr. Schneep was sitting on the floor, legs criss-crossed. Across from him was a man in a bowl cap, white button up and black vest. A small handlebar mustache sat about his lip. He was holding a couple of finger puppets, with more scattered around him. Both men looked up at Jack as he entered.  
The doctor’s eyes widened. “Jack.” He quickly got to his feet, striding over to him. “You need to leave, this instant.”  
“Wait, but I-” Jack was cut off as the man on the floor grabbed Schneep’s pant leg, tugging it gently.  
The doctor turned around, looking down at him. His hands flashed quickly in front of him, making a series of symbols that was merely a blur to Jack.  
“Are you sure?” Dr. Schneep asked softly.  
The former nodded.  
He turned to Jack. “You may stay.” he said. “This is JJ. Although I know you have mostly referred to him as Jameson in ze past.”  
Jack felt suddenly nervous. He smiled unsurely at Jameson, who beckoned him to come over. The Irishman obliged, coming to sit down across from him. The doctor joined them both.  
Jameson gave Jack a shy smile and held up his hand to his forehead, bringing it away in a kind of salute.  
“Hello.” Schneep translated.  
“Hi, JJ.” Jack replied; the alter seemed pleased to be recognized.  
The Brit brought up the same hand and began to sign quickly. “JJ.” The doctor placed his hand on top of Jameson’s. “Slow down for him.”  
After a moment, he nodded and tried again, going slowly. Jack was able to count nine gestures. At the end, he placed a hand on his chest.  
“You? Is that your name?” Jack asked, impressed. When Jameson nodded, Jack chuckled. “I don’t know any sign language.” he admitted.  
JJ reached out and, with the gentlest touch Jack had ever felt, took Jack’s hand in his own. He seemed to be thinking. He turned to the doc and made a series of gestures.  
Dr. Schneep smiled at him. “He wants to teach you something.”  
“Me?” Jack was surprised, but nodded. “Okay.”  
Jameson held up his right hand, waiting until Jack did the same. Slowly, he made a fist, leaving his pinky extended. Then he used it to draw a semicircle in the air. Jack did his best to copy him.  
Next was a modified fist with the thumb resting on the side, followed by a cupped hand in the shape of a ‘c’. Once more, Jack repeated him. The last symbol was the hardest; Jameson started out by showing him a peace sign, then moving the thumb in between his index and middle finger. Jack did the same.  
Jameson’s eyes were bright and he had a smile on his face.  
“What is it?” Jack asked curiously.  
The Brit placed his hand softly on Jack’s chest, signing the four symbols in a faster manner. “My name?” Jameson nodded. Jack broke into another smile. “That’s amazing.”  
Jameson just smiled in reply.

Jack flipped the pancake high into the air, watching it land perfectly back down into the pan. He grinned and ran a hand through his messy green hair.  
_Long as hell._ Chase muttered. _Cut it. Please cut it._  
“Look, you wear a hat every time you front anyways.” Jack said, sliding the pancake on top of his now three-high stack. “Let me keep it how I like.”  
There was a small huff, and Chase was silent.  
The Irishman hummed and went to the living room, sitting down with his plate and turning on the TV. As he picked up his fork a stabbing pain shot through his eye. “Fuck-” He dropped the fork and reached up, rubbing it quickly.  
His entire body tensed in panic, and he couldn’t stop shaking. He wasn’t sure if he was going to throw up, pass out, or go into shock. A bead of sweat trickled down his face.  
After a moment, the pain passed, leaving him with a dull ache that eventually faded as well. He couldn’t help feeling worried, however. He’d never experienced eye pain before.  
He took a deep breath, closing both eyes and relaxing. Once he was confident the pain had passed, he picked up his fork and began to eat once more.

“He’s so nice.” Jack said honestly. “I just wish I knew sign language. He’s teaching me a little, but I just feel so behind.”  
Dr. Jeffrey nodded. “I understand. I’m glad you’ve been able to reach him. I’ll admit I was worried about a trauma holder that far back in the subconscious.”  
“He’s doing okay, though.” Jack replied, feeling a bit defensive of JJ. “And he’s so sweet…”  
_I’m glad he’s taken to you so well, Jack._ Chase said softly.  
_Me too._ Jack replied. He and Chase had been practicing silently communicating, rather than the Irishman speaking aloud.  
_Not bad._ Chase’s laugh rang in his ears. Jack smiled slightly to himself.  
Jeffrey smiled. “I’m glad. Trauma holders can often go a… different direction, so it’s good to see Jameson doing well.”  
Jack frowned slightly. “Different direction?” His eye twitched; he reached up and rubbed it absentmindedly.  
“Well, in some cases, the trauma holder turns their pain outward. They lash out at other alters or even themselves.”  
“I didn’t know those existed.” Jack said quietly, suddenly nervous.  
“They are not common. Besides, Chase and you have both kept me informed on all the alters, correct?”  
“Well… all the ones we know about.” Jack replied, shifting in his chair. His heart rate was speeding up. He wasn’t sure why.  
“Exactly. If there did happen to be another, and none of you knew? The alter would have to be so far back into the subconscious. Much farther than Jameson. And most likely dormant.” Jeffrey rested his clipboard on his knee. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, Jack.”  
Jack could hardly hear him now. His blood was rushing in his ears. Roaring. He could hear a voice, faint at first, but slowly growing louder in his head. _STOP._  
He winced at the volume.  
“Jack?” Jeffrey’s voice sounded like it was coming from underwater.  
A shrill laugh sounded in his head. He felt faint, his eyes were growing heavy. He was sweating.  
“Jack!” So faint. Jeffrey was far, far away.  
The voice shouted through his head. _**STOP**_. There was silence for a moment. Another laugh followed it, a laugh that sent shivers down Jack’s spine. _I’M HERE._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Self-harm, injury, deprecating words, mentions of suicide, character death, somewhat graphic. Discretion advised!

“Jack.” Dr. Jeffrey had his hand resting on the Irishman’s shoulder. He groaned, blinking rapidly. Slowly, his vision came into focus. “What was that?” Jeffrey asked. “Are you okay?”  
Jack was slouched down in his chair; he sat up straight. “I’m fine-” he whispered.   
“It doesn’t seem that way.”  
“It was just a bit of… of infighting.” Jack insisted, shifting slightly. The term, only mentioned once by their shrink, was used to describe fighting between alters in the inner world.  
“Infighting that made you shake and sweat?” Jeffrey said doubtfully.  
Jack quickly wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Must have, yeah-” he said. “I think Chase lost his cap.”  
It was clear Jeffrey wasn’t buying it. Jack couldn’t blame him. His system had never experienced infighting. The four of them got on well. But he didn’t even know what had happened to him. He definitely didn’t want to tell Jeffrey, not yet at least.   
“I see.” The psychiatrist returned to his seat, making a note on his clipboard. “Well, perhaps we can work through some of those infighting issues, so you don’t experience more.”  
Jack nodded. “Sounds good. See you next week.” He got up and left before Jeffrey could remind him there were still twenty minutes left in their session.

Jack was scared. Truly frightened, for the first time since being diagnosed with DID. It was a terrifying thing, to feel unsafe in his own skin. To know that something, someone, was inside him, like an infection. He’d heard that voice in his head. It wasn’t anyone he knew, none of the alters. Hell, JJ couldn’t speak at all. And the accent… it had been his accent. It was Irish. It was him.

After two weeks with no incidents, however, Jack was calming down. He didn’t think he’d imagined it, but… maybe it really was nothing to worry about. Maybe he was overreacting.  
He was busy making lunch (a BLT and chips) and thinking about what video he wanted to record next. Maybe a vlog? Or Surgeon Simulator. He hadn’t done one of those in ages, and Dr. Schneep loved them.  
With a hum, he grabbed his plate and walked into the living room. As he sat down, grabbing the remote off the couch, his free hand reached up to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Instead, he poked himself in the eye, as he wasn’t wearing any.   
“Fuck.” he muttered, rubbing it as it watered. He didn’t even wear glasses that often. He wasn’t sure why he’d done that. Unless someone was near the front? Schneep frequently wore glasses.   
His head began to pound, eyes growing heavy. Inside him, a voice screamed. _NO!_

Jack was in the inner world; it was quiet. Usually he could hear some sort of noise, the TV on, Schneep with JJ, Chase practicing his “skills.” But now it was eerily silent.  
“Chase?” he called out, beginning to wander around the house. “JJ?” He didn’t call the doc’s name; he was pretty sure the German had fronted.  
It took him several minutes, but he eventually made his way to Chase’s room. It was empty. He looked around for a moment, feeling uneasy, before leaving and making his way to JJ’s.  
When he reached it, the door was pushed closed. He slowly opened it, looking inside.   
JJ was sitting on the bed, legs criss crossed, arms folded across his chest, rocking slowly back and forth. Silent tears poured down his face.  
“JJ!” Jack hurried over, hand touching his thigh in concern. The Brit looked up, shaking horribly. His face was red, his eyes puffy. He made a series of gestures towards him. “Slow down, slow down.” Jack said, grabbing his wrists gently. He waited for Jameson to nod before he released them.  
The silent man took a deep breath and began to sign slower, his hands still trembling and making the gestures hard to read.  
“The doc?” Jack translated. “He’s fine, he fronted. I don’t think he wanted to though, he was… I heard him scream.” he admitted. JJ was still crying. His hands were fiddling with each other, and he wouldn’t meet Jack’s gaze. “Are you alright?” he asked, voice softening.  
The former sniffled, wiping his eyes and nodding slowly. He made another series of gestures, including a purposeful trembling of both hands, holding his hand to his wrist, and the signed “a” resting in his palm. Mixed with the other signs, Jack was able to piece it together. JJ had been in the middle of a nervous breakdown, which Schneep had been helping with until he’d disappeared. In turn, this had only caused JJ more confusion and panic. Until Jack had shown up.  
“Well… do you want me to stay with you?” Jack offered.  
JJ shook his head, making another couple signs. ‘You don’t have to.’  
The Irishman smiled and gently took JJ’s hand in his own. “I’ll stay as long as you need.” he said. And he did.

JJ was alone. Jack had switched out again, but he hadn’t seen his doctor come back yet. He was calmer now; Jack had been able to stay for a while and act out his puppets with him.  
Nevertheless, he was always a bit nervous when he was alone, and he wasn’t used to it. The few times his doctor had to leave him, Chase was always there in his place. They kept him safe. He took a deep breath and picked up one of his puppets, a smiling one with bright green hair. It was his newest one. It was Jack.   
_“Your fault.”_  
The sudden voice made JJ jump, clutching the puppet close to his chest as he glanced around the room. At first, he saw nothing.   
The door slowly creaked open, a stream of light shining onto the Brit’s face. For a moment, the threshold was empty. Then a shrill laugh sounded throughout the room as a dark figure glitched there.  
JJ’s eyes went wide.  
 _“Jameson. It’s your fault.”_ it growled.  
He shook his head quickly.  
 _“It’s all your fault.”_ The figure glitched and reappeared right in front of him, his hand wrapping around JJ’s throat. He pushed the Brit down against the mattress, squeezing tightly, cutting off his air.  
JJ’s legs kicked furiously in panic, his hands clawing at the figure’s. His eyes were wide and desperate. He hated the thought of having his air taken away, being suffocated or drowned or choked. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even think. After an eternity, the figure let go, causing JJ to roll onto his side, coughing and gasping and massaging his throat.  
The dark shadow glitched, whispering in his head, his voice filling his mind until he could hear nothing else. _“It’s always been you. You’ve caused everyone pain. You belong back here, in the darkness. Alone. Always alone. Why don’t you just kill yourself?”_  
JJ was crying now, sobbing into the sheets. His mouth opened in a silent scream as slashes appeared in his arms, bleeding, slowly seeping at first before flowing freely and staining the white comforter red. The pain was unbearable, burning his skin, and he continued to writhe long after the figure had vanished.

“Jameson!” The voice was panicked, trembling. Gentle hands grasped his arm, cupped his cheek, ran their fingers through his hair. The Brit stirred and opened his eyes slowly.  
The doctor was there, his doctor, looking down at him in immense relief. His calloused hand cupped JJ’s cheek, thumb stroking it softly. “What have they done to you, JJ?” he whispered. “What happened?”  
The silent alter shook his head; the pain still shot up and down his arms. He didn’t want to raise them to sign.  
“Okay.” His doctor nodded, brushing some of JJ’s hair out of his eyes. “Okay. Let’s get you cleaned up, _ja_?” At the Brit’s nod, he slid his arms under JJ and lifted him up bridal style, carrying him into the bathroom. He wrapped his arms around the German’s neck and buried his face in his shoulder.  
“Here we are.” he said softly, setting him down on the edge of the bathtub. He was looking at JJ’s arms, which were covered in cuts and dried blood. Most were superficial, but a couple near his wrists looked deep. They were still trickling with warm, wet red. His doctor was still shaking. He took a deep breath and looked away from his wrists, examining him for other injuries. The only other harm was a ring of purple that was slowly turning yellow around his neck. “Did someone choke you?” he asked, voice quiet and terrifyingly calm.  
JJ looked down, unwilling to reply.   
“Jameson.” His doctor’s voice was low. “Please, _liebling_. I need to know who has done this.”  
He remained silent.  
The former sighed, hanging his head. “Okay. Let me get the bandages.”

Jack rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. “Chase, I’m telling you, JJ was fine when I left him. And I would’ve stayed longer if I could, but you know what happened.”  
_Yeah, I know._ Chase’s voice was resigned. _Schneep’s a wreck, though. Thinks he should’ve been there._  
“He didn’t have a choice either.” Jack pointed out.  
_I agree. But he doesn’t see it that way._ The American alter sighed. _Nothing like this has ever happened before. We’re all in a bad place right now._   
“Do you think it’s what Jeffrey was talking about?”  
_A persecutor? It must be. But, Jack…_ Chase hesitated, as though thinking about his next words carefully. _I know every alter in this system. Which means…_  
“This is someone new.” Jack said quietly.   
Chase’s silence spoke volumes.

Henrik von Schneeplestein couldn’t sleep. Every time he tried, every time his eyes closed, he was plagued by nightmares. He couldn’t stop worrying about JJ. His JJ, his Jameson. What had happened to him? He didn’t know. But he was terrified of it happening again.  
It took him several hours, but he finally drifted off into a restless sleep.  
Jameson was screaming. He could hear it. The doctor had never heard him make a sound, but now he was screaming like someone was murdering him, like he was dying- and he was. When the doctor reached him, he had a stab wound in his heart. His eyes were dull, faded, and full of pain. Cuts covered his arms and face. He had suffered. Whoever had done this had made it last.  
Schneeplestein couldn’t breath. The sight of JJ lying motionless on his bed was enough to bring him to tears. They were slow at first, but slowly grew until his entire body wracked with sobs. He fell to his knees beside the bed, hands grasping the sheets as he buried his head in them.  
His eyes snapped open as he shot up in his bed. Just a dream. He threw the covers off of him, fully intending to get up and check on Jameson.   
_“Henrik.”_ The voice chilled him to the bone. _“Leaving so soon?”_  
The doctor stopped, looking around the room unsurely. A shadow appeared in front of him, glitching in and out of view. The only feature he could make out was a sickening smile that stretched across his face.  
“Who are you?” he demanded. “I’ve never seen you before.”  
_“No, I wouldn’t think so. JJ, however, knows me quite well.”_  
Schneeplestein’s eyes went wide. “You. You did that to him, you hurt him. You bastard!” He moved to get out of bed, but the figure was there in a flash, one hand reaching out to press against his forehead.  
_“Not so fast.”_  
JJ on the ground. His neck broken. Eyes glazed. The doctor made a choked sound, recoiling from the shadow’s touch.  
_“Are you not understanding yet, Henrik?”_ the voice purred.   
He made another attempt to rise. The hand touched him again. More images of JJ. All hurting, all screaming. All dead. “Stop-” he whispered, lips trembling in a quiet plea.  
The shadow retreated a few steps, allowing the doctor to pull himself up out of bed and stumble towards him. “You won’t touch him again, I won’t let you.” he hissed.  
The glowing figure appeared directly in front of him, one hand wrapping around his throat while the other tangled itself in his hair, pulling his head back. Yet another series of images of JJ flashed through his mind. When the figure released him, he collapsed onto all fours, silent and shaking.  
_“You can do nothing to stop me.”_ it whispered. _“I. Am eternal.”_


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: (Not as bad as last chapter) Self-harm, death, suicide, injury, self-deprecation, language. Much of the same from last chapter. Discretion advised. Enjoy!

_I think we need to go back to therapy._ Chase’s voice was firm in his head, tone leaving no room for argument.  
Jack shook his head. “No.”   
They hadn’t been back to see Dr. Jeffrey since Jack’s episode, weeks and weeks ago. Both alters had reached the conclusion that whatever Jack had heard during that session was the same entity that had attacked JJ and, presumably, Dr. Schneep. No one had heard from the doctor for almost five days now. Something had happened, that much was clear, but he’d just vanished. JJ was distraught. Chase tried to stay with him as much as possible, and as a result Jack barely heard from him.  
 _Jack, this is serious. We have no idea who this person… this creature is. No idea what it wants. This could destroy us, d’you get that?_  
Jack ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh. “Then we’ll figure it out ourselves.” he insisted. “I’m not going back until we figure out the alter’s purpose. Or at least their motives.”  
 _How are we going to figure that out?_  
“I don’t know.”  
Chase scoffed. _How reassuring. I don’t care, Jack. Whether you find out what’s really happening. All I care about is finding this guy. And when I do, you better believe he’s gonna pay. He hurt our family, Jack, and when I find him, I’m gonna kill him._

Jack had started to hate the inner world. He used to be able to talk to his alters; the whole place had seemed bright and wonderful.  
Now he could rarely talk to anyone. With Schneep gone, anytime Chase fronted Jack had elected to watch over JJ. The Brit just stayed curled up in his bed, sheets pulled almost completely over him, silent tears in a constant trickle down his cheeks. Jack hated it, but all three of them knew that without the doctor JJ wasn’t likely to change.  
Jack was sitting in a chair beside his bed, gently stroking JJ’s hair. It didn’t do much, but he knew Jameson liked it nonetheless. After a while, the alter fell into a fitful sleep.   
Jack sighed. What the hell had happened to Schneep? What could this persecutor possibly have done to make him disappear? He knew the German wouldn’t just leave JJ.  
 _“Jack.”_  
The voice startled him; for a brief moment his heart leapt at the thought that Dr. Schneep had returned. This excitement quickly faded as the voice spoke again. _“JACK.”_ Its accent wasn’t German. It was Irish.  
Jack rose to his feet, eyes narrowed. “Where are you?” he demanded, looking around. “Who are you?”  
 _“Come find me.”_ The voice was spiteful, mocking.  
Jack glanced at JJ, confirming he was still asleep. Then he walked around the bed and out of the room. The hallway was dark. A dim green light flickered throughout it; Jack couldn’t tell where the source of it was. He’d never seen the inner world like this.  
At the end of the hallway, a figure was standing with his back to him. It was glitching in and out of focus, at times disappearing completely. A soft, static buzz was slowly growing in Jack’s ears.  
“What do you want with me?” he said, clenching his fists.  
The static stopped. The figure turned, glitching silently. His eyes were glowing bright green, the source of the glow that bathed the hallway. Jack had to shade his eyes, wincing slightly at the brightness.  
 _“Jack.”_ The Irishman shivered. The figure’s lips hadn’t moved. Even more terrifying, however, was its uncannily similar appearance to Jack.   
“Why are you hurting us?” he tried again. He wasn’t scared; he felt oddly calm. He wasn’t sure why. He’d thought about meeting this alter a million times. Having something so dark and harmful inside him should have terrified him.   
The man remained silent for several seconds, eyes narrowing and dimming the green light as they did so.   
The glow must have been coming from somewhere else, though, because a moment later it hit the alter’s face and arms and caused Jack to audibly wince. Jack had seen graphic things in his life, between playing horror games and nightmares and everything else, but this was the worst by far. There wasn’t an inch of skin on the persecutor’s neck that wasn’t covered by a cut or a scar. His arms were the exact same, and the cuts ranged from faded white scars to freshly bleeding lines. All were relatively the same shape and size.  
 _“I only hurt two.”_ the alter whispered, voice reverberating throughout the room.  
Jack was transfixed by the wounds. He shook his head to clear it and met those glowing green eyes. “JJ and Schneeplestein. What did they ever do to you?”  
The alter’s head tilted slightly. _“I did not mean to hurt the doctor. He was in my way.”_  
The Irishman felt a wave of rage wash over him. “But you meant to hurt JJ? What the hell did he ever do to you?”  
 _“His fault.”_  
“What is?”  
 _“Everything. All of the trauma. All of the pain.”_  
“That’s ridiculous.” Jack said, looking back into the bedroom where JJ slept. “He’s harmless. He doesn’t even speak.”  
 _“He was there for our abuse, Jack.”_  
Jack swallowed hard and turned back to the glitching figure. “I know that. They’ve told me.”  
 _“I was there, too.”_  
At this, Jack shook his head. “Chase and JJ were there. Chase told me. There was no one else; he would’ve known.”  
The figure laughed, actually laughed, a chilling, high-pitched sound that sent shivers down Jack’s spine. _“You think I haven’t learned to hide myself after everything I witnessed? Everything I endured?”_  
Jack watched him quietly. “Who are you?”  
 _“What do you want, a name?”_  
“Do you have one?”  
 _“Nothing you need to know.”_ More glitching. _“Now make this simple, Jack. Get out of my way, and let me and Jameson have a chat.”_  
“If you really think I’m going to let you near him again-”  
 _“Why do you think you can HELP?”_ the alter growled. _“Everyone thinks they can help. That DOCTOR thought he could save him… but I’ve always been here. Do you honestly think this is the first time I’ve visited your precious BOY?”_  
Jack paled.   
_“This is between me and him. It’s been far too long, and I no longer care about being noticed. You lost your doctor already. Would you like to be next?”_  
He should’ve been scared. “You mentioned that you’ve only hurt two people. But the doctor was only in your way. Who else have you harmed?” The alter’s eyes burned brighter. He gave no reply. “You want to hurt JJ. Why? Do you honestly think he could’ve done anything to stop our abuse?”  
 _“He could have tried!”_ he screeched, voice cracking. His chest was heaving; he looked incensed.  
“There was nothing to try.” Jack replied. “You can’t put the blame on someone for something they couldn’t possibly have controlled as a child.”  
 _“He deserves this.”_ the altered hissed.   
“We were five!” Jack said, hand wrapping around his wrist to keep him grounded. “None of us did.”  
 _“We felt that pain. He felt it. He was BORN from it. Now he’ll feel it for the rest of his life.”_  
Jack wet his lips, taking a deep breath and slowly meeting his eyes. “Are we still talking about JJ,” he asked softly, “or you?”  
The glitching alter went still; Jack could see him tremor slightly.  
“What’s your name?” Jack asked again.  
A moment of silence. _“Anti.”_ he whispered, eyes distrustful.  
“Anti.” Jack looked at him and carefully took a step forward. The persecutor tensed but didn’t move. He waited a few seconds, then kept walking, pausing a couple feet in front of him.   
He reached out and gently took Anti’s hand in his own, eyes looking up and down his arm. “You did this to yourself.” he said. It wasn’t a question.  
The persecutor’s eyes were narrowed. He was still tense, like a snake preparing to strike, but he didn’t attempt to pull away.   
“Why?”  
Anti swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. The flicker of light drew Jack’s eyes, and they widened at the sight. He was amazed he hadn’t seen it sooner, but a deep red line cut its way across his throat, dripping wet and fresh with blood.   
“You should be dead.” Jack whispered.  
The persecutor licked his lips and opened his mouth to reply.  
Behind Jack, in the bedroom with JJ, a loud crash sounded. He whirled around instinctively, heart pounding. When he turned back, Anti had vanished.   
“Fuck.” He stood staring for a moment at the spot where Anti had stood. Then he turned and hurried into the room.   
JJ was sitting up in bed, clutching his puppet close to his chest. He was shaking, tears leaking from his cheeks. The lamp beside him had fallen off his bedside table, shattering on the floor. He looked up when Jack walked in, looking so upset it physically hurt the Irishman.  
“Hey, hey. Deep breaths, JJ, it’s alright.” Jack made his way over to the Brit and gave him a gentle smile. He reached out his hand to him. JJ took it hesitantly, closing his eyes as Jack’s thumb ran across the back of his own. “I’ll clean this up, alright? You just get some rest.”  
It took a while to calm him down, but JJ eventually rolled over and curled back up in his sheets. Jack stroked his hair for a moment, sighing. Then he bent down and began to pick up the glass shards, thinking about Anti the entire time.

Over the course of the next week, Jack didn’t mention Anti to Chase at all. He knew exactly what Chase planned to do, and he wasn’t sure he wanted it to happen. Anti had done awful things. But he was hurting. And while Jack wasn’t sure he wanted to trust Anti completely yet, he didn’t want to run the risk of Chase harming him. Or worse, Anti harming Chase.  
In the meantime, he researched persecutors as much as he could. He still wasn’t ready to go back to Dr. Jeffrey yet, but he made sure to fact check articles and get as much reputable information as he could. The more he learned, the more convinced he became that Anti wasn’t inherently ‘evil.’  
 _Persecutors_ weren’t inherently evil. They had been through so much pain, often remembering much of the abuse. Since it was the only thing they knew, the only life they knew, they continued the process long after the source of the abuse was gone. They turned the pain on themselves or other alters they believed to be at ‘fault’ for what they’d endured. Suddenly everything Jack had experienced with Anti was making sense.  
Most of the sources he’d read, however, had pointed out that the cycle didn’t have to last forever. Much the same as when Jack had first been diagnosed, the key to helping persecutors was communication. They had to be shown that the pain didn’t have to continue and, with time and patience, they could heal and eventually become one of the system’s fiercest protectors.  
Now he just had to prove it to Chase.

Jack ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh. He’d been feeling dissociated all day, but he desperately needed to finish recording the video. He was already falling behind. He blinked his eyes a few times to clear the dissociation and tried to focus on his computer screen.

When he opened his eyes again, he was in the inner world. “Damn it.” he muttered. Not that Chase could help it, but he always seemed to front at the worst times as of late.  
He headed to the bedroom to check on JJ. Hopefully he was doing alright. When he reached the threshold, he stopped dead, staring at the man sitting on the edge of JJ’s bed.  
Dr. Schneeplestein looked up at him, breaking into a tired smile when he saw Jack. “It has been a while, Jack. _Ja?”_  
Jack couldn’t speak. He looked over at JJ, whose eyes were dry for the first time in weeks. He was sitting on top of the bedsheets, legs criss crossed with his hands in his lap.  
“How-” Jack shook his head. “Where have you been?”  
“Ah, a long story, perhaps for another time. Thank you for caring for JJ while I’ve been… away.”   
The Irishman simply nodded, still in disbelief. Dr. Schneep pat JJ’s hand gently and got up from his chair, making his way over to Jack. He led him out into the hallway and quietly closed the door behind him. His face had darkened slightly. “Jack.”   
He frowned at this change in tone. “Something wrong?” he asked.   
“I was attacked.” he said quietly, eyes shifting around the room. “By something I’ve never seen before.”  
“A persecutor.” Jack replied, nodding.   
“You’ve seen him?”  
“Yes.” Jack took a deep breath. “Doc, about him, I-”  
“Does Chase know?” Schneep asked. “He hurt me. He hurt JJ.”  
“He hasn’t met him yet.” Jack admitted. “I’m afraid of what will happen, but he’s not what you think.”  
Schneep looked at him incredulously. “Not what I-”   
_“Jack?”_  
Both men turned at the sound of the voice. Jack’s eyes widened at the sight of Anti standing in the middle of the hallway. He was glitching, head bowed, eyes watching the Irishman through low-hanging bangs. His arms hung limply at his sides, dripping with blood.  
Dr. Schneep’s gaze was fearful, but he instinctively moved to protect the threshold of JJ’s bedroom. “That’s him, Jack, that’s him-” he whispered furtively.  
Jack held out an arm behind him, a sign for Schneep to wait.  
“Anti.” he said quietly, taking a step towards the persecutor. “What happened?”  
The alter rapidly glitched, head going to the extreme left and then extreme right before his glitches settled down. He just continued to stare at Jack with blank, pure black eyes. He looked dead.  
Jack continued to make his way towards him, ignoring Schneep’s protests behind him. He stopped a foot in front of him, watching him closely. “Anti…” He reached out; before he could touch him Anti glitched and vanished.  
He took a deep breath and turned back to look at Dr. Schneep. He needed him to understand. “He’s in so much pain.” he whispered, voice almost desperate. “You can see that, can’t you?”   
The doctor’s eyes were still wary. Despite himself, he met Jack’s gaze, wet his lips, and gave a slow nod.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Trigger Warnings are mostly over): Mentions of self-harm, scars, threats of death. Please alert me if I missed anything. Enjoy!

“Do you know why he’s like this?” Jack asked Schneep. Both of them were sitting in the dining room; JJ had fallen asleep peacefully for the first time in weeks, and they were discussing what to do next.  
“Aggressive?” Dr. Schneep frowned. “I can assume. He and JJ are strikingly similar. Both are trauma holders, developed early on. However, they reacted to this trauma very differently. Think of it as ze, ah, fight or flight response, _ja?_ JJ was damaged internally. His mind is…” The doctor trailed off, looking upset. After a moment, he cleared his throat and continued. “His response was to run, to retreat into himself and hide. Anti, on ze other hand, responded with anger, with hate. He could not harm his abuser, so he turned his pain on himself. I suppose, and this is a little bit of speculation, that he thinks JJ could have done something more? Like it was his fault, _ja?_ So his wish for harm extends to him as well.”   
“That… explains a lot.” Jack said quietly, sighing. “We have to help him. I know we can, I’ve researched it. Persecutors don’t have to hurt forever.”  
Schneep pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps. I am not so sure this is ze best plan, however.”  
Jack looked up in surprise. “Doc-”  
“He hurt JJ.” Schneep interrupted. “If he can heal, I will aid this. But do not expect me to do it gladly.”

_“Jack.”_ Anti’s voice sounded behind the Irishman. _“What are you d-doing?”_ It glitched on the final word.  
He looked up at the alter, mentally filing away his current appearance, and gave a small smile. “Just planning my schedule,” he said. “Trying to figure out when to upload, when to record.”  
Anti gave a slow nod.  
“I haven’t seen you in a few days. I was looking for you.”  
The persecutor looked unsure. _“I don’t… I usually stay away from these parts of the inner world. Why did you… need me?”_  
Jack closed up his work and moved it aside, patting the seat next to him on the couch. The alter glanced at him warily, then slowly sat down beside him.  
“I don’t want to scare you away.” Jack prefaced, holding his hands out in front of him.  
Anti’s eyes narrowed, body continuing to glitch and shudder. He said nothing.  
Jack took a deep breath. “I just want to help you. Honestly. Tell me how to help you.”  
The alter scoffed. _“Help me? You can’t. You don’t even remember what we went through, let alone understand how to deal with it.”_ His eyes were almost spiteful.  
“JJ does.” Jack said suddenly, looking up. “He knows everything, you’ve said so yourself.”  
Anti’s eyes turned black. _“And what would you have me do?”_ he asked. _“Pour out my feelings to that worthless mute?”_  
Jack’s temper flared. “I’m trying to help you, damn it! But if you think I’m going to sit here and let you insult the best person in this system-”   
_“Okay.”_ Anti cut him off. His lip was curled slightly, but he nodded. _“I’ll… talk to him.”_  
The Irishman looked taken aback, but he nodded as well.   
_“He’ll be terrified when he sees me, though.”_ Anti continued.  
Jack gave a small smile despite himself. “You underestimate him.”

“Absolutely not.” Schneep’s voice was firm, body tense. He was sitting on JJ’s   
bed, hand laced in the Brit’s.  
“Schneep-”  
“I told you I would help, but this is too far. You saw what he did to JJ, and now you want to bring him back?” The German looked angry.  
“This is how we help.” Jack insisted. “And anyway, it’s not your decision.”   
Both men looked towards JJ, Schneep squeezing his hand tightly. “Jameson, you don’t have to do this, it-” He broke off as JJ pulled his hand away, beginning to sign.  
Schneep’s face dropped.   
When JJ was finished, he looked between the two questioningly. Jack was first to answer. “Of course we’ll stay with you. We wouldn’t leave you alone.”  
The doctor looked away and said nothing. The Brit reached back and grabbed his hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing it softly. His eyes begged his doctor to trust him.  
“Doc, you know he’ll be perfectly safe. We’ll both be right here.” Jack put in. He met JJ’s eyes. “But I really think this could help. JJ… knows. He could understand much better than we ever could. Chase too.”  
The Brit nodded, lacing his fingers once more through his doctor’s hand and clasping his other one over it.   
The German shook his head, looking at the ground. “The second he gets too close-”  
“He won’t.” Jack said firmly. “But agreed.” 

Once Jack had found Anti again, he explained the process to him. “We’re all going to be in there. I know it might not be… the most comfortable thing for you, but Schneep wouldn’t let it be any other way.”  
The glitching alter was silent for a long time. _“I can barely talk to you like this. How do you expect me to say anything with all of you watching me?”_  
“Let’s just see how it goes.” Jack put his hand on the doorknob, taking a deep breath. “Ready?”  
Anti glitched, fists slowly clenching and unclenching. _“Yes.”_  
Jack opened the door and walked inside, waiting for Anti to follow him before closing it behind him.  
JJ was sitting cross legged on top of the sheets on the bed, watching the two alters warily. Schneep was sitting in a chair a few feet away. Jack looked between the two before resting his gaze on Anti. “Don’t touch him.” Jack said quietly. “You won’t get a warning.”   
As he walked over to stand beside Schneep, Anti glitched, neck twisting to the side, eyes black. _“Is that a threat?”_  
“You knew this was the deal.” Jack replied. “I’m just reminding you.” He put a hand on Schneep’s shoulder, squeezing slightly.   
Anti approached JJ, posture tense and uneasy. He was glitching worse than usual.  
The Brit’s eyes ran up and down him, examining the alter. He was nervous, but unafraid. Seeing Anti this way made him less frightened, somehow. And he knew he couldn’t be hurt with his doctor only a few feet away. He took a deep breath, frowning slightly at Anti’s scars, glinting in the green light. He glanced over at the others and began to sign.  
Jack, leaning against the wall, cleared his throat. “He wants to see your… scars.” He looked over at Schneep, who nodded confirmation.  
Anti’s eyes flashed, his own gaze going down to stare at his bloodied and ruined arms. He ran his tongue across his bottom lip and took a step forward, thrusting his arm out in front of the Brit.  
JJ flinched at the sudden motion but quickly calmed. He slowly reached out, ignoring his doctor’s noise of protest, and showed his arm beside Anti’s. His own white scars shone up at them.  
The persecutor looked away angrily. _“I’m not apologizing.”_ he hissed. _“I thought you deserved it. It’s done now.”_ JJ shook his head, signing another sentence. Anti glanced at the others for translation and narrowed his eyes. _“What?”_ he demanded.  
The alters’ faces were both pale. The doctor swallowed with great difficulty and said, “They aren’t from you. He said yours faded.”  
Anti’s eyes widened. He turned back to JJ, staring down at their arms. A wave of empathy washed over him. He’d never felt like that before. _“You… do it.. too.”_ he breathed, eyes never leaving JJ’s. It wasn’t a question.  
JJ lowered his head, looking ashamed. He wouldn’t meet Jack’s or the doctor’s gaze. But he nodded.  
The persecutor licked his lips. _“They… could never understand.”_ he whispered, eyes trained on the Brit. _“Don’t be ashamed.”_ Anti took a deep breath, gaze softening ever so slightly. _“Don’t be embarrassed for something you couldn’t possibly have controlled.”_

Jack was in the inner world yet again. Schneep and Chase had been fronting pretty frequently recently, resulting in Jack’s ever-growing bonds with both JJ and Anti. He had planned, the next time he was present, to chaperone another meeting between the two alters. Schneep had become comfortable enough with Anti (though the dislike was still there) that he trusted Jack alone to be in the room if necessary. Anti had taken to JJ like Jack could only have hoped for, and he was so relieved.  
He hadn’t been in the inner world for more than a couple of minutes when he heard an angry American voice sounding from down the hall. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what was happening; he hurried after the noise.  
When he reached the hallway leading to JJ’s room, he cursed under his breath. Chase stood in front of the doorway, blocking it with a fierce look in his eyes. Across from him, close to Jack, stood Anti, twitching horribly, eyes pure black. Chase was holding a switchblade.  
_“Are you going to stab me, Chase?”_ Anti’s voice was mocking. It didn’t matter how much he had improved, Jack knew Anti would never react meekly to a situation like this.   
The Irishman couldn’t blame him.  
Chase grit his teeth. “You better believe it, you son of a bitch.” His knuckles were white from gripping the knife.  
“Chase, stop!” Jack interjected, hurrying to place himself between the two. His heart was pounding in his ears.  
The American’s eyes narrowed. “Jack, protector or not, I will not hesitate to run you through. Get. Out. Of my way.”   
“No.” Jack stood his ground. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me, no matter what you say otherwise. You’re not touching Anti.”  
_“Anti?”_ Chase’s tone was dripping with hatred. “That monster has a name?” He glared past Jack at the persecutor.  
_“I don’t need your help.”_ said alter snarled, pushing Jack aside.  
“Tough fucking luck!” Jack snapped, whirling around to look at him. “You have come too far, and healed too much, to do this. Don’t get back into this cycle.”  
Anti was staring back at him, those colorless eyes bearing into his soul. _“Why should I care? Why does he get to push me around? Threaten me? Does he even know what a trigger is?”_  
Chase scoffed. “I don’t give a damn about your triggers. I don’t give a damn about you. You hurt my family.”  
Jack didn’t look at him; he kept his eyes on Anti. “He doesn’t get to push you around. I’m not defending him. This is about you, Anti. Think of all you’ve done, especially recently. All your work with JJ.”  
At this, Chase froze. “You let him near JJ?” He was no longer shouting. His voice was deadly quiet. “What the hell were you thinking?”  
“It was fine, Chase. Schneep and I were both there the whole time, and...” he trailed off at the look on the American’s face.  
“Schneep, too? You’ve all fallen under his spell, then?”  
_“Spell?”_ Jack repeated incredulously. “Look at him! He’s not-” he broke off, trying to gather his thoughts. “Anti is not the person you think. Schneep took a while to come around too. But Chase… if JJ can accept him, we should all be able to. JJ’s the one he hurt the most.”  
Beside him, Anti’s hostile demeanor faltered, and he looked down quietly. His face was hard to read. Guilt?   
“Jack.” Chase looked at the Irishman pleadingly.  
“I won’t let you hurt him.” Jack said firmly. “He’s changed. And even if he hadn’t, we can’t go around trying to destroy any alter we want. Communication. Remember?”   
Chase glanced between him and Anti several times. His face showed his internal struggle as clear as day. This alter had hurt his loved ones. That wasn’t a light offense. But, little though he wanted to admit it, Jack was right. He would never hurt Jack, even for the opportunity of revenge.  
Slowly, the American closed the switchblade, sliding it into his pocket. He didn’t meet the others’ gazes.  
Jack breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well, it’s been quite a while.” Jack was sitting across from Dr. Jeffrey, clipboard resting on his lap as he stared at the Irishman, expression unreadable.  
Jack nodded, rubbing his eye absentmindedly. “I’m sorry. Especially for how our last session ended. I was working through a lot.”  
“I can imagine. After the episode you suffered, something major must have happened. Care to tell me about it?”  
“A persecutor.” Jack said. “A bad one. We’d never seen him before.”  
Jeffrey made a note of his clipboard. “Did he hurt you?” he asked, concerned.  
“No.” Jack swallowed. “He… went after Schneep once. And JJ. I don’t think-” He cleared his throat. “He’d done it to JJ several times.”  
“I see. Where is this persecutor now? Wandering the inner world?”  
The Irishman rubbed his eye again. “He’s pretty close, actually.” He could feel a headache building. “I think he might be co-con.”  
The psychiatrist looked concerned. “Are you safe to talk about him? I don’t want to put any of you in danger.”  
Jack frowned for a moment, then realized what he meant. “Oh. I didn’t quite catch you up. He isn’t hurting anyone else anymore. We’ve been… communicating.” He gave a slight smile.   
“Really?” Jeffrey seemed surprised. “And everyone is getting along?”  
“Not exactly.” Jack admitted. “Chase has been especially hostile towards him. It’s getting better, but there’s a long way to go.”  
“He’s healing, though? Your persecutor, I mean.”   
Jack’s eye twitched. “Yeah. It’s definitely not the easiest. He did do some bad things. But we all know he’s here to stay. And I feel he deserves a chance. Is that wrong?” he asked.  
“Not at all. That’s the path I encourage all alters to take when faced with a persecutor. Like I’ve said before, a persecutor can become one of a system’s fiercest protectors. They just need to be given a second chance.”  
Jack nodded, his uncertainties quelled for the moment at least. He winced at the intensity of his headache but shook it off. “I’m willing to give it. We all are; we’re trying, at least. I mean, he’s part of us. He’s like… family.” he finished, nodding his head once more. That sounded right.  
_**Thank you...**_ Anti’s voice, low and static-like, sounded in his head.  
Jack gave a small smile. _You’re welcome._ he replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the story. Well, sort of. Jack's story isn't over; there's so much more for him and all the alters. The point of this story was working on a new style and seeing how it turned out. I have to say I'm extremely happy with it :) I hope y'all enjoyed. If you did, I'm going to be posting a few oneshots throughout the next few weeks, all spinoffs of this short story. There'll be new characters, different experiences for the system, and character development. I hope you'll stick around for that; until then, thank you for reading!


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